Moby Files: Stories

The man sitting at table 12 was giving Roddy a hard time. Oh he was agreeable enough and a big tipper. It was his demeanor that had Roddy so on edge. The man exuded a maleness that Roddy had never encountered. A first glance one would think he was a bureaucrat. He was sharply dressed. His hair was jet black and sharply cut. His eyes were the deepest blue Roddy had ever seen in his life. And the lips made you wanna slap your momma they were so perfect. The man’s self-assurance and very direct looks when Roddy walked by had him second guessing himself. That was something Roddy simply was not accustomed to.

By any standard, Roddy was a man’s man. He was tall, strong with thick muscles sprouting bursts of swirling hair, broad shoulders, thick muscled thighs, and a generous package. Roddy knew he was considered handsome by all the women (and men) he ever encountered. He was not ashamed of using his looks to his advantage. His looks had earned him many a tip tending bar. Roddy enjoyed his job. He gave him the perfect opportunity to make a living and to quench his ravenous sex drive. A man needed release from time to time. To Roddy, that is all it ever was. There was no love in his soul. He had seen what the lack of love did to his parents and he had sworn to never go thru it himself. Roddy had a secret. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but he knew the world was not always kind to those who were different. He also had a talent for singling out those like himself. One glance and Roddy knew a person’s sexual proclivities. He could almost smell it on them.

A sharp crack shook Roddy from his thoughts. He glanced over to see the handsome stranger helping an old man pick up his now shattered glass. The old fool was clearly drunk and it did not help that he was large and clumsy. Roddy had already thought of ejecting him; however, he had been quiet and not really disturbing anyone so he had let it slide. Now it was time to act since his guest was clearly over-staying his welcome. As  he set his brow for the confrontation and put foot to path toward the man, the handsome stranger did a peculiar thing. He leaned over and whispered into the struggling man’s ear. The drunkard gave a start and swiveled his head around to stare at the blue-eyed stranger in disbelief. He mouthed as if words were coming out but Roddy could hear no sounds. The drunkard steadied himself and fled the bar as fast as he could. Whatever the stranger had said, it had clearly shaken the old fool. Roddy was glad of his departure but now even more on edge around this devilishly handsome stranger who appeared to be motioning him to cover over.

*

Devik looked up to see Roddy looking at him intently. He knew as soon as he had entered the bar he had to have him. This brute of a man was like honey to Devik. He liked them big, strong, and masculine. He had already gleaned from Roddy’s mind where his sexual interests lay. He had picked up Roddy’s thoughts of himself and Devik while warily eyeing the old man pretending to be a drunken fool spilling his drink. The old buzzard was a watcher. For all his memory lapses, Devik still knew many things. He knew the Council of Ages watched him. Why, was unclear, but he knew. He tolerated them as long they did not interfere. This old idiot had clearly tried to hard to fit the role of drunken fool and had over done it. He was struggling and his stupidity was annoying Devik.

Glancing lustfully at Roddy, Devik leaned over to steady the fool and whispered in his ear, “Listen watcher, I am going to let you live today, but only if you leave, now! And tell the Council they had better send someone a little less stupid next time. Now go!” And with that, he gently released the man. The old fool was visibly frightened. He knew the gig was up and dared not utter a word for fear it would be taken wrong. His wits, however dull, were not gone and he did as he was told. He fled for the door as fast as his somewhat clumsy feet would carry him.

Devik could feel the terror emanating from the man. He had no intention of killing him but the Council was getting sloppy if they thought Devik was so easily fooled by these doddling watchers. There was a time when Devik actually relished finding watchers in public. The little game of cat and mouse was often a pleasant distraction. Watchers were trained to keep their thoughts simple. This kept Devik from scanning any deeper as it was often pointless to do so. There had only been one watcher who could hide all his thoughts from Devik. He had a unique talent that Devik cherished in their many years together. A memory stirred but was banished by the sight of Roddy watching him.

Now that the watcher had been sent on his way Devik could turn his thoughts back to his next conquest. “Dear Roddy, you fancy yourself the heart-breaker do you? Let us see who’s heart or ego gets broken?!“, he thought to himself. He motioned Roddy over to his table. He could see the man visibly fighting his nerves. Roddy was not used to being the mouse in the game. His thoughts were full of images of the many erotic things Roddy wanted to do to Devik. Devik smiled, he knew he’d chosen wisely. Roddy would be a very pleasant distraction from his memory issue.

It started with a glance. Laerack did not know the handsome stranger with the blue eyes, but when they passed and the stranger casually glanced at him, he felt as if the gaze pierced him to his bones. Laerack felt as if his whole life had been read in that one glance. He shivered. As he continued on his path he felt a wave of arousal and curiosity wash over him. He shook himself for feeling such strong feelings after a simple glance. He chastised himself, “what is wrong with me. I am not a 16 year old boy anymore.” His mind was in conflict with the very real response of his body. His breathing and pulse increased. He felt faintly flushed and a very familiar stirring in his loins. Shaking himself harder, he continued on his way feeling oddly conflicted about his feelings. He dared not look back to see if the handsome stranger was watching him.

Laerack had no idea the glance Devik gave him was not so innocent as it had looked. When Devik saw him he felt his own wave of emotion. A distinct feeling of deja vu mixed with an odd sexual attraction. Devik had scanned him and found the man clearly thinking of Devik. Even now as he walked away the stranger was fighting the urge to turn and see Devik staring back at him. He warred with himself as he walked away. Devik had plucked this from his mind with little effort. Delving into a human’s mind and grasping his thoughts came easy. It was second nature to scan any human he encountered. Humans were an interesting mix of emotions and actions. Capable of so my compassion and honor, and yet capable of incredible destruction. These beings were as complex and diverse as Devik himself. Truth be told, Devik was fascinated by them.

Devik let a small smile curve his lips as he caught a last thought from the stranger. It was surprising erotic. Devik had no hangups on sexuality. He had been straight, gay, and all the flavors in between in his long life. He often found himself most attracted to humans of his sex, but there were no boundaries in his mind. He often avoided the hangups that came from loving a human. He had succumbed more than a few times in his long life. The outcome was always the same though. Convert them in someway to extend their lives or watch them die. No matter which choice he made it always turned out poorly. He would lose them to the base emotions that often ruled those he turned, or watch them slowly decay away and die while he barely appeared to age.

Devik shook himself out of his thoughts. He had seen this human before, but where? “My memory is failing me more and more these days“, he said to himself. “This memory failure is becoming a problem!  Why are there gaping holes in my memory?” Devik contiued walking, his dark cloak flowing around his talk dark form as if defying the wind. Devik was in a brooding mood and he would brook no distractions. Perhaps, it is why he did not notice the figure in the shadows watching ever so intently as he walked away. The figure remained motionless, as if a statue, for fear of alerting the powerful being to his presence.

Finally as Devik rounded the corner, Jarem let out a great sigh of air. He had been holding his breath. He knew if Devik had laid his piercing blue eyes on him he would have been a dead man. Jarem was trembling. “I have to report back. The council must be told. It is happening again. The creature is nearing the crisis point. We must find a way to make contact without drawing his fury.” He slipped back toward his car, parked safely behind the building. Jarem had read the stories of the last crisis point. It was centuries before he had been born; however, it was required reading for all watchers. Anyone joining the Council of Ages were required as part of their intense training to be intimately aware of the entire archival history of their order. Watch and listen but never intervene. To do so would court death. Observe and report but never ever be seen. The fear of death was the least of your worries.

The Council of Ages had been around for thousands of years, maybe longer. New documents uncovered in Kyro indicated even longer than even the archives listed the Council’s history. Devik predated the earliest known human cultures on the planet. For all anyone knew, he predated humanity. No one knew for sure. What was clear, there was a very real threat in letting Devik slip back into his dark persona. The last time crisis point erupted, Devik had spun out of control for almost 4 centuries. It was a random act of chance that swayed his mind, and heart, and brought him out of the darkness. No one knew how old Devik was. He was ancient and powerful beyond imagining. He was single-handedly responsible, even though it was not clear if he knew it, for every fairy tale boogeyman in human mythology. The vampire, werewolf, demon, angel, even many alien conspiracies all spawned from Devik. And the myths were not always wrong. Many of these creatures did or had existed at one time because of Devik.

Jarem knew he had to make contact with the Council as soon as possible. His driver was waiting with the vehicle running. Jarem had a penchant for smooth sleek vehicles. As he slipped into the back seat of his silver Jag, the tension left him. The clean smell of the interior leather comforted him as he motioned for the driver to flee. The fear that had tightened all his muscles into knots was only now beginning to subside. He reached for a drink. He rarely condoned drinking on the job but he needed to steady his nerves and his thoughts. He needed a clear head to consider his next step. He knew he had to act and soon.